Page 10 of Brutal Alpha Bully

When Dallas finally rights himself, stepping back from the door, I’m expecting to see Kalen’s head of dark brown curls, wild and mussed from the fight, his body so much like mine butshorter and slighter. A graphic tee and a random flannel, his signature outfit. A pair of scuffed Vans.

But it’s not Kalen that Dallas pulls from the car.

It’s a woman, gagged and bound and struggling against him in a feral, desperate way, her blond hair wild and tangled around her face.

And not just any woman. It’s Seraphina Winward.

Chapter 6 - Seraphina

When the blindfold is ripped from my face, the bright sunshine comes blaring in, reflected off of bright white gravel. I recognize the location instantly—the gas station right on the edge of town. The place with the most travelers, where people might come through if they want to fill up. A quick five minutes off the mountain road up and down to other towns.

The station is a little rundown building with overpriced snacks and stale loaves of bread. There’s an attendant whose eyes drop instantly to your chest when you try to check out at the counter.

The stocky, thick Sorel brother keeps his meaty hand on my arm, laughing as I bruise myself trying to get away from him. He smells strongly of gasoline and daemon fire, though I suppose everything in this town smells like that lately. The aftermath of consistently being ablaze.

Did they bring me here to sell me off to some out-of-towner? To finally get me out of Silverville? My heart picks up its pace at the idea of being stuffed into the back of a car, hitting the highway, and being miles away in just hours.

I should have left a long time ago. I shouldn’t have let my ties to this place keep me here. And what’s going to happen to Nora if they sell me off? Will they find her? How long would it take me to get back to her?

Declan Sorel laughs to my right. I could just spit at him. Of course, my brother called him first, asked if he had any use for me. And of course, the horrible pack leader said yes. He didn’t like the way I spoke to him during that town hall.

“Like I said,” Declan says, walking over and gesturing to me like I’m a fruit basket or a nice box of cigars, “we wantedto bring a little peace-keeping offer. Something to keep you entertained. Comfortable while you’re in town.”

I’m finally able to see past the glaring sunlight and the reflection of it on the gravel, and my eyes land on the person—theman—I am apparently a gift for.

“I want nothing to do with this,” he says, and I’d know that voice anywhere.

The air leaves my body when I realize who it is standing there next to the gas pump, looking like he’d much rather have a fruit basket. Acting like he’s disgusted at the very idea of me. Of the fact that I’m standing here, ten feet away from him.

“Fine,” his brother laughs, pulling me roughly to his side. “We’ll use her for something else.”

Xeran’s eyes flash in a warning, then they skip right over me and land on his brother. “Get your hands off her.”

It’s a command to the brother, an effort to show that though he’s younger, Xeran is still the one in charge.

His brother—Dallas, I’m just now remembering—reacts instantly, his body obeying the command before his brain can reroute. His iron grip turns loose for only a second.

Then, as though in retaliation, he tightens it twice as hard.

“Oomph,” I let out a strangled cry of pain through the gag—a noise I don’t mean to let happen, but that bursts through me at the prodding of bruises that are already deep in my bones. My body still hasn’t recovered from the night of the fire, from that great draw of power, and my skeleton feels soft to the touch, almost malleable.

Xeran takes a single step forward, and I feel the flinch of the man beside me, the way his body urges him to step back.If my feet weren’t tied together, I’d be stepping back, too. If it weren’t for the chance of staying near Nora, I might almost wish for some random traveler over Xeran Sorel. My heart is already twisting itself in palpitations, yearning toward him, begging me to seek his touch.

As though I haven’t already been there. As if he hasn’t already made it perfectly clear that I was mistaken in my feelings for him, and that he certainly did not reciprocate them.

“Let her go,” Declan orders, his eyes sliding to me for just a moment before they snap back to Xeran. He wouldn’t like this description, but Declan watches his nephew like a bunny in the bushes, twitching, praying the predator before him doesn’t see him.

It’s been years since Xeran was here in town, and it’s almost laughable how quickly the alphas around me recognize his strength, their bodies wanting to bend toward him as their alpha supreme.

Everyone has always known it would be him.

That is, until he surprised the entire pack by renouncing the position and disappearing.

Dallas lets out a low, angry sound but pushes me roughly forward. My left foot catches behind my right foot, and the ground flies toward my face. To my shock, Xeran steps forward, too, intercepting me before I can fall to the gravel, his hands grabbing me roughly but not painfully.

He hauls me to my feet, and the simple fact of his touch rushes through my body.

Last year, I watched a documentary about humans and heroin. This must be like what it feels like for them when they inject that drug and it rushes directly into their bloodstream.

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